The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think. -Horace Walpole

Saturday, January 08, 2011

Academician is a really dumb sounding word, but it's REAL.

It's been a month since I posted. Over a month. But don't feel bad...its not just this blog that's been ignored. My paper and pen journal is bereft of content as well. My guitar sits completely untouched. I haven't made a watercolor since summer and I can't tell you the last time I wrote a poem.

But I'm contemplating a Ph.D. And I wrote a paper about websites and nonprofits and documentary film that I'm submitting to an academic conference. So...that's something, I guess?

Academia, I shake my fist at thee. You're squeezing the creative life right out of me...or are you? Doesn't it take creativity to think of questions you want to answer? Doesn't it take a bit of creativity to take 50 articles on seemingly disparate topics and weave them into a coherent (if not completely logical) argument to justify your study? Maybe I'm just transfering my energy instead of stiffling it. Maybe.

Still, I can't help but think that I'm shriveling a tiny bit. Like my once full, plump cells have been submerged in bathwater and instead of soaking it up, I'm getting prune hands. When I'm not studying, I don't take breaks with my guitar. For some reason, I head outside to shovel icy snow or pull weeds that are just going to grow right back or rearrange the furniture in the mauve living room yet again. There is no space for my art. And it's really not about time. I don't have the motivation. I'm fried. And I miss being a kindergarten theater teacher. I miss making magic with duct tape and paperbags. Remember when I wrote a musical version of "The Paper Bag Princess" and little asian kids were singing "I am elizabeth and I am a princess!" down the halls of school? Those were good days.

Whatever. I'm being self-pitying and revisionist. And I really do like what I'm learning. I feel like there is something really structurally important in what I'm starting to contribute. I guess I just wish there was a way to have it all? I left teaching because I felt like I could do more good in the world on a larger scale (forgive my illusions of granduer, but I'm tired of sanitized blogging)and I felt there was a calling in my future. And I know that I'm on that path right now. I guess today when there is so much haze on the whatever mountains those are to the east and gray snow that WILL NOT DIE and not a green thing to be found in provotown, I'm wishing there was just a little more magic in my life. A little more art. A little more of that OTHER kind of creativity that made me feel possible and powerful and full of love for everything and everyone.